


Jersey Numbers

by Aaron_The_8th_Demon



Series: Holding [30]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 11:35:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19945519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaron_The_8th_Demon/pseuds/Aaron_The_8th_Demon
Summary: It won’t be “secret” for long… but Brad doesn’t want it to be, and he knows Patrice doesn’t want it to be, either.





	Jersey Numbers

**Author's Note:**

> I got a 2016 Team Canada Rat Jersey from eBay and it arrived today, inspiring this tiny quick thing.

“Half an hour,” Brad grins, glancing over from the driver’s seat. “Half an hour  _ at least. _ They’re so thick they might not even notice at all.”

Patrice rolls his eyes. “I think you’re not giving them enough credit, Bradley.”

“What do I get if I win?”

“The satisfaction of knowing you beat me at something?”

“Oh my god, you’re right, that’s like, the best prize ever. Nobody else will be able to say they beat God at a bet.”

He doesn’t have to look to know there’s a very exaggerated eye-roll being directed at him - he knows Patrice too well, he can practically just feel it happening like it’s his own eyes moving that way.

They get to Warrior Ice Arena and Brad whistles cheerfully the entire walk up the hall to the locker room, then goes through his routine of hassling team mates as he puts on his pads. Lastly is his gloves, and he sighs a little taking off his wedding ring because the idea of not wearing it just bugs him. It gets stuck in his wallet and then the gloves go on.

And throughout practice, nobody notices. Nobody notices that Brad’s jersey is just a little off, nobody notices that Patrice’s sleeves are shorter than normal. Of course practice jerseys aren’t super obvious, so maybe that’s the problem. They’ll have to come up with something better.

“Okay, you were right,” Patrice admits the second the doors of the car are closed.

Brad starts laughing. “At least you’re a good loser, babe.”

“I can’t believe nobody noticed. Bruce at least should’ve caught it.”

“Yeah, but all our practice jerseys are the same, so…” Brad frowns to himself for a second as he puts the car into drive and starts moving. “Hmm… okay, I’ve got it.”

He explains his idea to Patrice and they try again at their next game, which is a home match against Minnesota. Brad tugs on the jersey over his head, straightens it, shoves the sleeves up onto his elbow pads out of habit. Still nobody notices, not that he’s wearing the wrong number or the glint of metal on his left hand. Fuck, he knew his team mates are dumb, but this is insane. Their rings get put away and it’s not until halfway through their warmup that Z skates over to Brad.

“Have the equipment guys made a mistake, Marchy?”

Brad grins. “Nope.”

“But that’s Bergy’s jersey.”

“Yup.”

“But why?”

Brad just gives his captain the biggest smile he can manage, and at least Z isn’t as dumb as everyone else because he seems to immediately realize.

“The whole point is to get attention,” he admits. “I wanted to see if anyone would notice. Nobody has but you.”

“And did you…?”

“Yeah, finally. Hey Z… we weren’t gonna say anything until after the game, though, we just wanted to confuse everyone.”

“Ah, I see. I also see that  _ you _ are the one who wants to be confusing, Marchy,” Z chuckles. “Alright, nobody hears it from me, but you need to wear your own jerseys after this.”

“Okay.”

Really, this situation would’ve gone well no matter what. Because it could’ve helped push down the frustration of a loss, but they won anyway, so now it’s an even sweeter victory.

“So who wants to guess what the jersey thing is?” Brad demands with a huge grin as they’re all getting ready to go home now that Bruce is done talking to them.

“I figured it’s just you being weird like always,” Torey shrugs.

“Yeah, me too,” Pasta agrees.

“Bergy, did you lose a bet to your boyfriend?”

“No,” Patrice smiles. “Well, yes, I did a couple days ago, but that has nothing to do with it.”

“It’s to get attention,” Brad announces. “Get everyone to ask questions. Now we’ve got your attention, and you deserve to know the truth… those three days between home games were like, really convenient for us to go sneak off and get married finally. That way the tabloids couldn’t turn it into a big thing.”

Everyone loses their shit at that, but in a good way. Both of them are pulled up from where they’re sitting and pretty much just passed between team mates for hugs and slaps on the back (and, for Brad, gentle smacks upside the head). They’re both chirped and congratulated repeatedly, and Brad knows that probably in a couple days the whole internet will know because sharp-eyed fans would’ve noticed the jersey-swap during warmup for sure. It won’t be “secret” for long… but he doesn’t want it to be, and he knows Patrice doesn’t want it to be, either. Even if it’s just for the spectacle of the thing, two hockey players got married to each other, people should get to see.


End file.
